HIMME
by Alison-beads-of-fiction
Summary: Sookie goes on a pub crawl with friends. Originally a 'get well soon' present for Northman Maille, my amazing beta, this is now a 'you're fab' present, because I'm such a slow writer. AU/AH/OOC, M for language


**HIMME**

**A short story for Northman Maille (aka Alisonbynumbers) **

**by Elbly**

**I originally started this as a 'get well soon' present, but sadly I'm very slow at writing and this took much longer than anticipated. So it's now a 'you're a fab friend and I love you' present.**

**AU/AH/OOC**

**Note - PoV is indicated in the paragraph breaks by either an S or an E.**

**Disclaimer – the names of these characters are the property of Charlaine Harris, I just hope she doesn't sue me if she doesn't like the way I've used them.**

-x-S-x-**  
**

I sat on my bed, head in my hands, sobbing. Bill had ruined the best vacation of my life!

To have been brave enough to travel all that way on my own was a big thing for me. It was a week of blissful sunshine, stunning countryside and interesting company as I hopped from youth hostel to youth hostel and it was something I'd never have said I was strong enough to do, but I did it, and it was fantastic. Then I'd met up with Bill, someone I'd known on-line for years, and had a huge crush on for almost as long. We'd spent the night together, and looking back now I can safely say it was not a night of passion that will stay with me for the rest of my life, but at the time, I thought it was.

The phone-call the next day to say he was getting back with his ex, sorry, was just a perfectly crushing end to a previously wonderful holiday.

I had thought that despite the distance, after finally meeting each other, there might be something...

I was wrong.

Life had to go on. I pulled on my shoes and headed to work.

-x-S-x-

I ran along the platform and just managed to jump onboard the 07:26 before the doors closed. I was always 'just on time', never early.

"Sookie!" a familiar voice called. I turned round to see Tara sat in her usual spot. I admired her; she always seemed enthusiastic, organised, awake, focused, dedicated... she brought everything to our line of work that I didn't. "On the stimulants again I see?" She waved at my paper coffee cup.

"As always." I took a sip and sat down in the joylessly tired, gum speckled seat opposite her.

"Up to anything this weekend?" It was the same standard conversation any colleagues who got on, but barely knew each other, would have on the train at god-awful-o'clock.

I stared out the window and watch the city disappear and the country side slide into view. What was I doing this weekend? Well not logging onto the game that was for sure. I hadn't logged on since I'd come home because I didn't want to bump into Bill. I had been thinking about taking a trip to the shops, maybe to buy myself a web-cam, even though I wasn't sure who I was going to talk to over it, if not Bill.

"Amelia's suggested we go out clubbing, it's my birthday, but I'm just not in the mood for it and I've not planned anything," I replied.

Tara put her hands on my knees and instantly infected me with her intensity and excitement. "Well JB and I have a friend coming over for the weekend and we're taking him out on a pub crawl! I _insist_ that you join us! Bring Amelia, and anyone else you want to join us, but do come! We can't have you moping around on your birthday!"

I tried to push Bill from my mind as I smiled at her. "Sure, fine, okay, whatever, I'll be there."

-x-S-x-

It was Saturday morning and I was still in a total funk. I was even less in a mood to celebrate my birthday than ever, and even the promise of meeting new and interesting people that Tara knew was going to inspire me to enthusiasm.

All week Tara had been telling me about her friends and their interests: JB's sister Holly was an artist, her boyfriend Hoyt did something I didn't catch, his friend Lafayette liked his weed, and Eric liked strange and crazy stuff, as well as practical stuff, like mending and making things. She and JB, her husband, had been to university with Lafayette and Eric, and blah, blah, blah. I hadn't really listened, I didn't really care. I wanted to be with Bill. Why had he done what he did? Had he and Lorena even split up before I went to see him anyway? Had he just cheated on her with me because he was a dick? GAH!

This was doing me no good, I needed a walk.

I threw some clothes on, and dragged my hair into a scruffy pony tail. As I shut the front door behind me and locked it I stared at the brass number and said "That's it! I'm signed off men! No more for me!"

I turned round to the bemused smile of my neighbour and chuckled.

"Don't you ever get that feeling? No more men?"

He gave me a slight smile and backed away. Crazy Sookie, that's me.

I sighed, and set off into town. The low lying September sun was skimmed the tops of the buildings as I walked down the hill, occasionally blinding me as the buildings parted and let the full glare through. A nip in the air made me zip up my fleece and wish I'd dug out my coat.

I was half way over the bridge when I caught sight of the most beautiful man I had ever seen, his long hair glowing in the sunshine, a tight, ribbed turtle neck hugging his firm, broad frame, and skinny jeans clung to his amazingly well toned legs like tights, and disappeared into a pair of leg-warmers. From under the leg warmers peeked a pair of black suede winkle-pickers. His entire outfit was black, but it seemed to suit him so well, making him look almost like a French artist, and I chuckled quietly to myself at the thought of him with the obligatory beret. He walked gracefully and held himself well, almost like a dancer. He was beautiful, and tall to boot, at least six foot four. Glorious, just glorious.

_Now why can't I meet a man like that!_ I thought to myself. Why indeed? Why are they never that attractive? Bill had been tall, to be sure, but he'd also been awkward in his movements and was certainly not about to win contests in any "Mr Handsome" competitions.

"Sookie!"

I pulled myself out of my daydream in which Mr Tall Blond and Beautiful was taking me out for coffee to look around for the familiar voice.

Next to the vision in black stood Tara and her husband JB.

"We're just on our way back from the cobblers," Tara told me as she waved a pair of grey suede boots with pretty flower embroidery on them. "They said they couldn't fix them, so Eric's going to see what he can do."

Holy cow! This was Eric! Perhaps the pub crawl would be good after all!

_Think Sookie! Think!_ I had to impress this man, the pretty ones never fall for me, so if I could do something to get his attention, maybe, just maybe, we'd have something to talk about.

I tried so hard not to blush as I grabbed the boots. "I'll fix them, no problem! Leave it with me!" And I set off to find all the bits and pieces I'd need; funnily enough I didn't normally have leather needles and super strong threat in my emergency sewing kit at home, I mean seriously, who does?

-x-E-x-

Huh! Tara's friend's pretty. And she's coming out tonight? Fabulous!

I'd promised myself I was not getting mixed up with anyone after Hallow, I was going to leave it a long time before having another relationship. But this didn't have to be a relationship, I hadn't had sex in months, and she really was very attractive; her lips soft and full, her long wavy hair the same golden tone as my own, her hips rounded and just right for grabbing onto, and those breasts... I imagined what it would be like to feel them in my mouth.

Yep, I didn't need a relationship, with this level of testosterone, just one night would help.

-x-S-x-

I had spent four hours fixing those boots; every stitch was carefully considered to make sure it didn't weaken the leather, leave a mark, or show in any other way. That repair was perfect.

Would he notice? Would he care?

I turned the boot over in my hand and realised that I was actually proud of my work, and if he wasn't impressed then stuff him.

Tara popped round to collect the boots and gave me the low down at the same time. "Last girlfriend was insane – hurt him quite badly, physically I mean, scars all over him. VERY odd! We went round once and she'd only talk to us through her doll."

She was not filling me full of confidence. It's one thing to be beautiful, but clearly his taste in women was not a great recommendation. I filed the knowledge away for later, hoping that it was just a mistake on his part; we can all fall in love with the wrong person.

As Tara left with her boots, Amelia arrived with her bag full of makeup and carry case bursting with clothes. One night! One night on the town, and she brought enough for a week. They hugged as they passed one another at my door, then went their separate ways.

"You positively cannot wear pink! I have the cutest dress and I MUST wear it tonight!" Ahhh, so Amelia, I could guarantee she would end up wearing turquoise, just as she always did, but I would play her little game. I, on the other hand, would probably wear navy, brown or green, just as I always did. She had convinced me to buy and wear a scarlet red top the night before, with a black skirt, I practically screamed 'goth' or 'harlot' or something... everything that was not me. I liked my pastels, pinks, browns and greens, with the exception of my most favoured and comfortable navy trousers.

"I need a promise Ames" I said, looking deadly serious and sounding more so.

She looked concerned all of a sudden, but shook it off. "I won't have seriousnessnessnessness on your birthday! Break out the bubbly! Or failing that, I brought cider! Come on, you can tell me all about it over a glass." Then she trundled up to my room at the top of the house. I hated cider and was glad I had a solitary beer chilling in the fridge.

I loved my room; I'd always wanted to live in an attic. I had this strange romantic idea of it ever since reading a book about a girl who lived in one. In reality it was overly hot in the summer and freezing in the winter, but it was the largest room in the house, and I was prepared to make sacrifices for my imagination. Amelia spread her clothes out over my bed waving a hand over them to get my opinion.

"Cute dress, it will suit you," I conceded. "Now about tonight... I've met someone..."

"You hussy!" She squealed. "Details! NOW!"

I went on to explain about the run in I'd had with Eric on the bridge and how he looked like the man of my every waking dream. "So please, please, please leave him to me! I know what you're like Ames; you'll smile, you'll bat your eye lids and touch his arm and he'll be putty in your hands. It's my birthday," I blushed. "And I want to unwrap him as my bestest birthday present EVER!"

"THAT hot?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Like you wouldn't believe!"

-x-E-x-

Pub #1

I should never have let JB talk me into sharing that bottle of whisky before we set out. The dutch courage is always a bonus though; I hadn't used to need it, I used to just stand there and women would swoon. Simple. But a series of hideously damaging girlfriends had left me with a head full of bad wiring, and my self confidence was shot to hell. Oh I'm attractive, I'm very attractive, but the women I fancied always seemd to be either broken themselves, or uninterested in me.

She turned up with a couple of friends who seemed nice enough, but from the moment she took of her jacket I knew I was going to have a hard time talking to her face. Her beige-y brown t-shirt had Felix the cat printed on it and it was giving me the biggest hard-on I'd had in weeks, which was a serious size given the blue balls I'd been suffering lately. It's not that I have a thing for Felix the cat - that would just be weird - no, it's that Felix's eyes were right smack over her stunning tits.

I was relieved when Tara called me for food; I needed the time to think of boring things to reduce the aching bulge in my pants, and pray like mad for colder weather so she'd put that jacket back on.

-x-S-x-

Pub #1

Amelia, Terry (my housemate) and I turned up half an hour later than we'd said we would after Amelia decided, just as we were leaving the house, that the pink dress really wasn't appropriate after all. Eric and JB were staggering back from the bar, laden down with drinks, already both looking as though they'd drunk the bar dry between the pair of them.

I caught Eric's eye. He beamed the grin of a slightly drunken man who'd spotted someone pretty to jabber at, I blushed hoping it was me and not Ames who was the source of his interest. I wanted to say something, but all that would come to mind was "Hi, I hear your ex was a loon." I had the feeling it wasn't the best way to start a conversation. I bit my lip, slipped my hands into the pockets of my most favourite and comfortable navy trousers and headed to the bar, hoping he hadn't spotted that my cheeks were the same colour as my cherry red doc martins.

A pair of hands slid round my waist and a warm body pressed into my back. "He's a honey," Ames whispered in my ear.

"You promised!" I handed her a pint of cider.

"I won't try and pinch him, but you need to actually talk to him. Try the usual questions. What does he like? Has he seen and good movies lately? Does he do the decent thing and go down on a woman on their first date?"

"Doesn't every man?" The voice was deep but smooth. I couldn't turn round, I needed to fall into my pint and drown in fermented apple juice; anything but face him with a face this colour and no quip to return with.

"They do if I ask nicely." Amelia replied before letting go of me and kissing my cheek.

"Food's here Eric!" Tara called over. I thanked my lucky stars that he was clearly hungry; I would need a few more beers, maybe even some vodka, before I could foresee anything other than a drivel of vowels and consonants flowing from my lips when face to face with Eric.

-x-E-x-

Pub #2

I was utterly confused. In the previous pub Sookie had not said more than two words to me. There'd been some coy glances, so she had some level of interest, but no words. This meant I would have to make a serious effort.

"I need help," I said to Tara as we stood at the bar waiting for drinks.

She smiled back at me. It was the knowing smile of a married woman. "Oh Eric, there was always going to be a time when a woman didn't fall at your feet you know."

I laughed at her. "Are you sure she's not gay?"

"She's straight, mostly. I'll help where I can, what do you need?"

I thought about it for a few seconds. I should have paid attention when Tara talked about Sookie earlier, I'm sure there was probably lots of snippets of helpful information that I'd ignored as JB and I downed another shot of whisky. "I need a topic of conversation. She seems shy, or anxious – what would be bothering her?" There was no point in asking for her taste in music or films, I was a goth, and she was dressed like a cross between a skater kid and one of those 'nu metal' fans (I was hoping the last bit was a style choice and not a taste in music), the chances of us having anything much in common was pretty slim.

"Okay, well, firstly she fixed my boots... remember? And secondly she has a big hang up about her teeth. One of the front ones is fake and comes out, regularly, I think she believes men won't find her attractive when they know." Tara had the sort of tone to her voice that a school teacher has when talking to a four year old with a shoe full of wee. I realized she must have said this earlier in the evening, possibly several times, interjected with "are you listening" and I hadn't paid any attention, despite almost certainly making noises to suggest I was, indeed, talking everything in. I know how to "listen" to women, I'm just not so good on the recall.

-x-S-x-

Pub #2

This place was posh! This place had sofas! And not the kind that were perpetually covered in beer and stale crisp crumbs; these were fresh and clean, as was the carpet. Either this 'drinking establishment', because I couldn't call it a pub, had a better class of clientele, who never got so drunk that they perpetually missed their mouths, or their cleaning bill was horrific. It was hard to tell from the cost of the drinks, but I was placing my money on the manager having a very cordial friendship with the local cleaning business.

Amelia had secured a position at the end of one of the sofas and was merrily chatting away to Lafayette in whom she'd found a kindred spirit. Never before had a man out-flirted Ames, but he was seriously giving her a run for her money. I was wondering if she'd noticed he was gay yet, but decided it might be fun to watch her try if I found myself with nothing better to do.

I snuggled up next to Ames and tried to listen into her conversation. I was always after tips on how to improve my flirting technique, and I had to hand it to her, she really was a master of the game, but I never seemed to have the ease and flow that came so naturally to her. Oh I knew that a light touch to the arm was a great sign, and I'd got so many coy lines memorised I could fill a book with them, but the moment I tried to combine these ideas and words with another actual, real-life human being, my cake-mix of conversation turned into goo that failed to rise the in the oven of love.

"Hey Ames, it's your turn to get the drinks," I reminded her, a fact she was VERY good at forgetting.

"No need, I saw you were drinking Corona. I took the liberty of squeezing the lime then pushing it in for you..." Eric said as he slid off the arm of the sofa and onto the spare cushion beside me, passing me the bottle as he did so. "Clean hands!" He showed me his gloriously large bear-like hands. "I promise."

"Thanks." I bit my lip and took a swig from the bottle. Guh! I needed more words.

"So! Tara tells me you have a false tooth. Funky!"

I looked him square in the face. Was he being serious? My teeth? What about films? Or music? Or anything but my teeth!

"Err, yeah." How the heck did I answer this one? "Car accident. It comes out, I look like a goofy kid, or a stupid hic, depending on your point of view."

"I'd go on cute, with a hint of goofy kid. You couldn't look like a hic if you tried." Eric took a sip from his pint of Guiness. It was the kind of sip that a thirsty child takes from a glass of lemonade – he downed nearly a third of the pint in one gulp. He was either nervous, or thirsty for beer, or both. "Have you ever thought of having novelty ones made? You know, like some vampire fangs, or just one big fang, like Alien-Maggie in the Simpsons? Or maybe one that glows in the dark, or has LEDs in it? How fun would they be?"

I couldn't work out if he was making fun of me, trying to make me laugh, or just really awkward himself. "It hadn't occurred to me to be honest. So, err... have you seen any good films lately?"

-x-S-x-

The Walk between Pubs #2 and #3

I was on a giddying high.

I'd been talking to Eric, and, so far, I'd not screwed things up!

I'd nipped off to answer the call of nature, and on my return found everyone had hurried themselves out the door. Only Eric remained by the sofa's we'd been sat on, holding my bag and jacket, waiting for me.

I blushed as he held out my black zip-up fleece for me to slip my arms into, and coyly thanked him as he slipped my bag over my shoulder.

"Shall we?" He asked, indicating the path out with those giant paws of his, and I resisted the urge to bend down and suck each digit there and then.

In the cool, crisp night air I found Tara. She linked arms with me for warmth and we headed off as a pack to the next pub, which happened to be my favourite haunt in my first year of uni... ahhh the stories that place could tell if walls could talk.

"So," Tara started patting my hand, then grabbing Amelia's arm with her spare. "Girls, let's talk men! What do you look for in a perfect man?"

"Oh I'm still too hung up on Tray to talk ideals – he was everything I want, apart from the walking out and leaving me heartbroken part. Sookie! Come on! You tell us, what's your ideal?"

They were bating me! I knew it! They'd had a sneaky conversation in the ladies and they were setting me up. I blushed a little as a bashful yet mischievous grin formed itself on my lips. Eric was within ear shot and I'd got just enough beer in me now to play this game.

"Well," I started, wondering which part of himself he liked the most. I decided to start with the parts I could see and work from there. "Large strong hands are a must."

"Me," came his deep voice in a soft whisper. Tara turned her head to look at him and I knew she was grinning like the Cheshire Cat, I could feel it in my ear.

"Tall, at least six foot, preferably taller."

"Me."

"Strong, so he can pick me up, deep chested, broad shouldered," I was guessing and hoping he could pick me up; he certainly looked like he might manage it.

"Me, Me and, yes, Me." I just about prevented my knees from buckling at his confidence in his own strength.

"I love long thick hair on a man, and a hairy chest gives me all SORTS of naughty thoughts." My mind was chanting over and over "_please let him have a hairy chest, please let him have a hairy chest."_

"Me and oh, me!"

Guh! At that point JB decided to show off and vaulted a metal gate in our path.

"Oh, and athletic is a bonus." I added. So now I knew Eric was interested for sure, and I knew no man would pass up a challenge like that. JB had done it, now he was going to try.

He clapped his hands, and rubbed them together in a showman-style gesture. Eric ran towards the gate, placed one hand on the bar and threw his legs up. I was impressed I could push his buttons, I was pleased he was keen enough for such a demonstration of his ability to match my check list, and then I was horrified as his foot caught the bar and he landed on the pavement with a thud.

Amelia instantly burst into hysterics, hand on her knee and pointing at Eric's misfortune with the other. Tara mildly chastised him for showing off, JB offered him a hand up, and I? I just stood there.

Shaking myself from my momentary shock, I casually walked over. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine, stupid shoes. I should know better than to wear such pointed things."

We both chuckled a bit, but he stopped and grabbed his ribs.

"We should get you to Hospital. If you can't laugh you've probably cracked them," I informed him, sobering quickly and putting on my first-aider's head.

"I'm fine! Don't fuss."

-x-E-x-

Pub #3

My ribs burned with pain. In the back of my head I knew that the alcohol was probably dulling the ache, and tomorrow I would suffer, but there and then the only thing I could think was more drink would mean less pain.

Sookie's friend came and sat opposite me. Now that woman can flirt! She seemed pleasant enough, but too flighty for my tastes. Sookie seemed to have a level of sense to her that I'd not found in a woman for a very long time, and I liked it. Of course this 'no nonsense' attitude might have meant that my pathetic attempt at a display of bravo had just ruined all my chances, particularly since she was now ignoring me, but it fascinated me.

I watched her play table football with the others, and noted her evil cackle when she scored, and her crazy little 'happy dance' when her side won. I wanted to be playing with her, and while table football wasn't my ideal, it would do for now.

Just before I could get to the table, Lafayette cornered me with a haze in his eyes. "Dude! You smoke?"

Not normally, but every now and again it's nice, but I tried to remember the last hour or so: Had Sookie smoked? If I was going to go in for the kill later and she didn't smoke I did not want to taste like an ashtray.

"Later mate. Later."

Talking to her hadn't reaped the results I was hoping for, so I decided to try my old tactic: ask.

-x-S-x-

Pub #3

I had fluffed it. I probably should have raced to his side and mopped his brow as he lay on the concrete writhing in agony. I'd been too cold, too sensible, too... too something not right. Damn it!

Lafayette got the drinks in, and I watched in horror as Amelia got her claws stuck into Eric.

I was playing table football with JB, Holly and Hoyt, and had a perfect view of every batted eye lid, every coy giggle, and every light touch. I was fit to kill Ames. I was no contest to her, the perfect specimen of woman, with her soft wavy hair, her perfectly voluptuous body – a curve in all the right places and none of the wrong ones – her stunningly pretty face and her unendingly easy manner. When she was in the room, I was just another decoration on the wall.

My focus turned to the game, there was no point in worrying about Eric, that game was lost, at least this one I could win. Carefully juggling the ball between the plastic men's feet, I lined up a shot, flicked the handle and... GOAL! I let out a joyous cackle, and Hoyt and I high-fived and wooped. We cleaned up in a best-of-9 game, and I did a little victory boogy; I really am a bad winner.

Gathered around the football table, musing on what to do next, we all decided that the music and atmosphere here was superior in every way than the other pubs so far, so another round was an excellent and most righteous plan. Holly and Hoyt accepted full responsibility for paying, and toddled off to the bar. They passed Eric on their way, who waggled his foam-trailed pint glass at them and the three nodded at each other in the understanding that he'd need another Guiness.

"How are the ribs?" I asked, not knowing what else to say. 'You muppet for trying to jump a gate you couldn't hurdle' wasn't going to win me any brownie points and 'I'm actually both embarrassed and utterly delighted that you tried to impress me in such a manly way' would probably end up sounding like the sounds from the uncontrolled tongue of someone who'd just had dental treatment.

"Oh they're okay, nothing another Guiness won't fix," Eric waved his empty glass at me and grinned cheekily. "I err, I don't suppose I could interest you in a kiss?" he asked, eye brow raised and eyes full of lustful hope.

Oh shit! I wasn't ready for this. Eric wanted to kiss me! ME! He. Wanted. To. Kiss. Me! My knees gave way, my face flushed, I couldn't do this! "Maybe later? Excuse me!" I mumbled, and made my way to the bathroom.

I stood in front of the mirror, clutching onto the side of the sink, just staring at myself. My foundation was blotchy and needed re-doing, Eric wanted to kiss me, my mascara was a little smudged, he'd asked if I wanted to kiss him, my lip gloss was all but gone, why hadn't I just kissed him?

"Heya, what'ch'up to?" Amelia asked as she came bounding in, the door slamming against the edge of the sinks.

"I'm calming myself down, Eric just asked for a kiss... and I panicked." I never could hide anything from her.

She squealed. "You totally have to go out there and kiss him. NOW! I demand smoochies!"

"I can't Ames, I'm genuinely scared... he's so tasty, and I'm... I'm... well I'm me! I do NOT want another one night stand, I want a relationship."

"A kiss is not sex! Did your mother never teach you this?"

I snorted. She was right, I was jumping the gun somewhat.

I went back out into the bar area, collected my beer from the table, and waited for just the right moment to jump Eric.

-x-E-x-

Pubs #4 and #5

She'd knocked me back, albeit nicely, and that was that. Only thing for it was to get drunk. It was clear that she had no real interest in me, which was a shame, I was really starting to like her.

I sidled up to JB and suggested we started on the whisky chasers. He was in.

I toasted: "To Oblivion!"

-x-S-x-

Pubs #4 and #5

The right moment to kiss him wasn't presenting itself. It needed to be cosy, and quiet, preferably without the others to nearby. I would coyly brush myself against him, and look into his eyes, and he'd know that I was ready for that kiss. It would be perfect, it would be right, it would be the kiss of my dreams.

And yet...

The closest I got to him was sat round the table as we all admired his trousers. They were black PVC with zips sewn in random places for no reason other than to be zips on his legs. I playfully unzipped each one, ensuring I took the opportunity to feel his toned legs beneath those trousers. And oh how they were toned! Not an ounce of fat. I made a mental note to ask him, after our kiss of course, if he cycled much, for those were definitely the legs of a cyclist, or a runner. Each time I stroked his leg I tried to catch his eye, but failed.

I heard my phone go and I fished it out my bag. A text, from Bill! The nerve! I deleted it without reading it and carried on stroking Eric's leg. Noticing he was out of drink I offered to get him a fresh one, surely he'd follow me to the bar, and then I'd make my move!

He didn't follow me.

-x-S-x-

Pub #6

We were stood outside in the 'beer garden' – a concreted yard with benches and gas heaters, hardly a garden. It was cold, I was shivering, and looking longingly at Eric in the hope that he would get the hint; I needed his arms around me, I needed warming up. Nothing.

I finally accepted defeat. My moment of the perfect kiss was gone, forgotten. I had, again, failed to win the boy and I resigned myself to the fact that it wasn't meant to be. Maybe I should have stuck to my original plan earlier that day and just signed off men. Disappointment was getting to be something of a friend to me.

Tara snuck up beside me and tapped Eric on the arm. "Eric! I notice your beer is empty. Let me take that for you. Oh good! You have nothing in your hands, now, my friend Sookie here appears to be in need of a hug." She turned to me. "Sookie, Eric here does a great line in hugs, I strongly suggest you try one out for size, let me take your beer!"

The blush built so quickly from my toes to my hair line that I thought someone had lit me on fire. I felt his hands on the small of my back as he pulled me close, my chest pressed against his, the warmth of his breath on my head. I wrapped my arms around his waist and lent in. His strength, his tenderness, his passion, all blended into one, perfect embrace. I wanted to stay there, forever.

I looked up into his eyes and he met my gaze. In that moment, that one instant, I got my perfect kiss.

I was lost.

Happy Birthday Sookie!

-x-S-x-

The Morning After

"Hey honey! What time is it?" Amelia asked as she rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow. We always shared a bed when we went out together, though nothing had ever happened. That morning was the first morning I didn't wish it had.

"I don't know, I'll check my phone." I fell out of bed, my head throbbing from the night before. "Oh god, I need painkillers first!"

I rummaged for tablets, then searched for my phone. It wasn't in my bag, or my trousers, or my jacket pockets. It wasn't on the side, nor had it fallen down the side of the night stand, and it wasn't on my desk. It wasn't anywhere.

Amelia passed me her phone so I could ring mine; there should have been enough battery power for it to ring, and then I could find it. It rang out, but there was no sound in the room.

"I've lost it! Oh gods Ames! Eric was going to ring me this morning... he'll think I've stood him up!" I was freaked. Last night had ended so well, I couldn't have him thinking I was blowing him off (and not in a good way), I needed to take that call!

Headache and need to empty the contents of my guts was quickly replaced by panic. I needed that phone! We threw on some clothes and headed into town. Coffees and breakfasts could be bought en route.

As we walked we tried to recall the last time I remembered seeing it. We talked through the course of the evening, the drinks, the games, the stupid conversations... finally Bill's text sprang to mind and we headed to that pub.

Describing my phone to the barman he smiled and handed it over. "Hasn't stopped bloody ringing all morning, I'm glad to be rid of it to tell you the truth."

I looked at it and saw one missed call from Amelia and 9 from an unknown number. Eric! Just as I was about to call him back I saw my battery was down to one bar. This was NOT going the way it needed to.

"Ames, I need your phone!" I pleaded.

"We've run all the way here, and now you decide mine's good enough?" she chuckled at me, handing over her mobile.

I dialled the number.

"_Hello?"_

"Eric? It's Sookie! Sorry about this, comedy situation with mobiles this morning – I dropped mine in a pub last night, this is Amelia's." I started to ramble, but stopped short, catching the look from Amelia which said 'you're using my air time, it's not cheap! Wrap it up!'

"_Oh, hey, cool. So, ummm... how's it going?"_

"Well, we're tired, hungover and in need of breakfast. You?"

"_Oh pretty much the same." _I had to hand it to him, he did sound as rough as I felt.

"Care to join us?"

"_Don't mind if I do."_


End file.
